


Let me count the ways

by SorryFreudianSlip



Series: so close that your hand on my chest is my hand [1]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mattimir, Swearing, im sorry anons idk if i fulfilled either prompts, matt is silly, sick!Matt, silly nerds in love, vladimir is grumpy and protective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4522197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SorryFreudianSlip/pseuds/SorryFreudianSlip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt thinks that maybe there’s more than one way to say I love you. Karen leaving burnt coffee on his desk, creating rows and rows of paper cups from days he didn’t come in. Claire shaking her head with a smile and giving him extra pain pills. Foggy-well. There was too many times to count. Matt didn’t deserve any of them. </p><p>Matt is sick and Vladimir loves him.</p><p>Based on two anon prompts on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let me count the ways

**Author's Note:**

> Based on these prompts:
> 
> "Matt is sick, like delirious with fever kinda sick, but he's stubborn as hell and still tries to do go out and do his Daredevil thing cuz there's a bad guy that just can't wait or something. Vlad ends up finding him trying to parkour over roofs or on fire escapes and gets mad at him for being an idiot but eventually brings him home and takes care of him."
> 
> "Hey so about those mattimir prompts, I mean if you want to write one where vladimir like accidently tells Matt he loves him I would be super cool with it"
> 
> So I sort of combined the two. Hopefully it worked out. Enjoy!

   Matt thinks that maybe there’s more than one way to say I love you. Karen leaving burnt coffee on his desk, creating rows and rows of paper cups from days he didn’t come in. Claire shaking her head with a smile and giving him extra pain pills. Foggy-well. There was too many times to count. Matt didn’t deserve any of them.

   And now there was Vladimir. Vladimir was all spitfire and bite, and stubborn as hell. He’d rage at Matt and call him a hypocrite, turning every kind word and hushed secret between them into a weapon to throw in his face. He’d storm out to get drunk and get into fights (Matt supposed. It wasn’t like he _followed_ him, or anything.) Sometimes they were too much alike.

   But then Vladimir would leave flowers as an apology (7 fresh chamomiles) or buy him new shirts and a first aid kit. Some days he’d cook blini and fragrant lamb dumplings. “Tolya’s recipe,” he’d murmur, his head down. “Just thinking of him.” Or Matt would stumble in from a long night and Vladimir would growl as he stitched him up, cursing “this fool who lay hands on his lover”. He’d call him дорогой, and say it meant “stupid man”. It was all rather domestic. And Matt supposed these things meant “I love you”.

   And if Matt picked up the more expensive Vodka when he shopped with Foggy or got extra jam for Vladimir’s tea? Well. One could suppose that meant “I love you too”.

*

“You look like shit.” Foggy said, and tossed the softball to Karen.

“I second that,” Karen said, catching the ball and putting it on the windowsill. “You haven’t even complained about my coffee.”

I can’t even smell how burnt it is, Matt wanted to scream. He forced a smile.

“I’m sure I’m fine.”

“Negatory, captain.” Foggy said. “I say we all go home before you infect us with your Russian diseases.”

“Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re sharing diseases.” Karen said with a grimace.

“Really, I’m-” Matt paused, as his inner ear decided his bearings on the office should begin to spin. “-fine.”

“Hey, buddy?” Foggy’s voice was much closer and _how did he not hear him walk up to him?_

“Let me get Vladimir.” Karen’s voice was echoing a little. No, don’t. Matt thought.

“Good idea. Vladdy’s gonna come and you’re gonna go lay down, okay? You’re okay. We’re good.”

Matt’s temples were pounding and for a moment he swore he could smell their old dorm room. He heard footsteps, _fast and expensive italian loafers and high heels_

“дорогой!”

The door slammed open. _Foggy has a drywall man_ , Matt thought, and felt sick.

“I tell him not go and work today,” Vladimir muttered. Matt searched for the smell of sandalwood cologne, sour cream and vodka. Nothing.

“Volodya?” Matt mumbled.

“Here, fool.” Cold calloused hands cradled his face. “I call woman.”

“Claire! God!” Foggy slapped his forehead. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Matt shook his head. “I’m fine-”

“No!” Vladimir shouted, slamming an open palm against the floor. It rang throughout the room and through Matt’s ears. It was comforting.

“Jesus,” Karen breathed and Matt could hear that, that was _good_.

“Home.” Vladimir growled, and grabbed his waist, forcing him to his feet. Foggy rushed to support his other arm. “Then woman, fool.”

“No Claire,” Matt’s mouth felt like cotton. Were they moving?

“Home.” Vladimir said again, and then Matt was gone.

*

A gun shot. “Daddy!”

Matt bolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. Was that a dream? Where was his father? Who-

“Daddy!” A little girl. Vladimir was asleep. He rushed to his closet, pulling on his clothes. Her voice was ringing in his ears.

“Matvey?” Vladimir groaned. He was already up the stairs, cold fresh night air-

“Daddy!”

“Matthew!”

Matt blinked, one hand on the fire escape. The other-where was the other? Dangling above the city.

“Matvey?” He sounded young, scared. “Come up. Come up.”

“42nd and 14th.”

“What?”

“42nd and 14th. Gun shot. There’s a little girl.”

“Matthew, come up.” Was he crying?

It took Matt a moment to figure out how. Everything was so hot. His muscled screamed with the effort of pulling himself back onto the roof. He collapsed, his forehead against the cold cement. He could hear sirens. He hoped it was Brett.

“Fool. Fool! Should let you fall,” Vladimir choked. “Idiots, the both of you!” He took Matt into his arms, cradling him. “дорогой…”

“What’s it mean?” Matt whispered.

“Idiot!” Vladimir spat, holding him closer.

“Lying. Dor-oh-goy. What’s it mean?”

“Nothing.” He whispered more Russian.

“I know that one.” Vladimir froze. “I love you too.”

“Fool. We go to bed, not leave for many days.” He flicked Matt’s forehead. “Ran without mask, дорогой. What if someone see you?”

I love you. I love you. I love you.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at sorryfreudianslip.tumblr.com!
> 
> дорогой means Darling.  
> Matvey is Matthew.  
> Volodya is Vladimir.
> 
> An odd amount of fresh flowers is given to lovers in Russian (at least in my town), and chamomiles are cute. Yellow flowers (like they brought Semyon) are usually for funerals or indicate separation or break-ups. So. Y'know.
> 
> A lot of people use the diminuitive of Vlad for Vladimir but that usually makes me think of the name Vladislav or Lenin so idk.


End file.
